


lux in tenebris lucet

by nebulaedust (crystallizedcherry)



Series: Pruhun Week 2016 [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Historical, PruHun Week, Warsaw Pact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5695906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallizedcherry/pseuds/nebulaedust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignettes, historical. Compilation of short stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. happy birthday

**day 1,**

Elizaveta brought him black sugarless coffee and he used its surface as it was a crystal ball. Crystal ball to foresee the impossible present. What he would have done at this birthday, what he would have eaten, and what would the weather have been. A birthday cake also, it might be, and warm winter when all his brother could offer was not merely a wish on a paper slipped through the border with bribing the poor and thin guards.

**- _happy birthday_**


	2. childhood

**day 2,**

When their friends were only the bow and arrows, muddy land and wild hunting dreams becoming true in the forests and hills, they didn't dream of the future caged by those humans aiming to show power. Fenced and restricted to find solace in their loved ones. All that was left was only _each other_.

**- _childhood_**


	3. fairytale

**day 3,**

He praised her when she did a part of her hair up like Belle's, and they were dancing. Though he had no rose or castle of his own also they were not talking in French, she said nothing and offered only smile. While the others, minus Braginsky siblings, in the wooden parlor, realizing that Petersburg was insanely cold and that Battle of Stalingrad (surprisingly, years ago) was a hell fueled by snowflakes, they were in a certain room by themselves. Fairy tales happened not always in the castle; as long as they found comfort in this curtained world—it had always been a fairy tale.

**- _fairy tale_**


	4. historical

**day 4,**

He had applied the medicine she needed and wrapped bandages on all the wounds she suffered. Prussia even asked for her to open her shirt buttons to check another wounds formed since the chaos, and she, unbelievably, allowed him to do so, without saying anything. It felt fine at first but nothing compared to this kind of horror; her silence was another hint of a lot of wrong.

"Hungary."

She stayed silent. Her gaze was nothing but empty, she was a shell without soul.

"Hungary."

She heard only his call, but he heard one more call from the door.

She wept another silent cry and she covered her face with both of her trembling hands. He soothed her with a sincere hug, but what had been stopped was only her trembling; not her tears. _Alright, at least you have done fifty percent right_ , Prussia only had himself to calm him down.

It was Russia's voice to demand her to go out to attend the biweekly meeting and Prussia retaliated sharp, as loud as he could, to answer in her position,

"If you really want her to come then open the door and look at how bad she is! And if 'why' comes to your mind, ask your people and those who stand with the principles you all throw to us!" Prussia clenched his fist hard, his breath went wild. "Leave us alone you red bastard!"

When he didn't hear another knocks and calls, he finally back to his seat beside her on the creaking bed. His palms, both, were on her cheek, mildly forced her to look at him. "What was lost, is lost. Your pain remains, I know, but there are more people who need your strength now. They, who lost their loved ones too, don't need your cry when they are falling into pieces too."

She took a breath in, her lips trembling hard though she was trying hard to combat the hard feeling. "Their lives. Humans' are short. It is a fate. But when the other takes it away, while that person also bears the same fate—it is miserable! Everyone has right, Gil—and I'm hurt as I couldn't do anything to save those who had right to live peacefully!"

"We are also not the deities having the ability to conquer everything .... There are stuffs we can do and cannot do ...."

Hungary fell to his shoulder and he held her close. The Revolution had been her people's struggle though not everyone, she knew it exactly and it was the other reason she was hurt so bad—nothing could bring pain more than seeing your people tore in two factions, and an intervention made it worse.

Hungary buried her face in the crook of his neck but he did nothing.

He didn't know what to do.

He was burnt down in the flame of pain too.

When she was broken by the failed revolution, but her people's spirit remain though imperfect, he had already lost his identity he had been so proud of for centuries.

Who was hurt more?

**- _historical_**


	5. alternate universe

**day 5,**

Elizaveta was working on her sewing when he came without saying anything at first. He brought potatoes along with his paperworks he had to finish even in his rest time at night. She offered him a kiss, slight but surely inviting him into another stage and he suddenly forgot how their holiday to the West was left as merely a dream as his employer had not permitted him. East is where the sun rises, she whispered, and though we couldn't see where the best sunset you thought it would be, I'll be your sun here.

**- _alternate universe_**


	6. high school

**day 6,**

Rooftop was his favorite, but not was hers. She found the sport area was the best, she would kick and throw and shout in every match she took, and he was the special audience on the top of the building; with a can of coke or a tube of chips. He mocked her in every practice she engaged to, and her reply was always sharp and vicious. He shouted, she snorted. She kicked, he made fun of it. Nevertheless, yes, shouting was love. Rarely another students knew the fact that he was always in charge of relieving her stiffened muscles on the stairways to the top; the bridge connecting their favorites.

**- _high school_**


End file.
